“Why wait?”
She kissed his cheek. “Dinner first.”
“You didn’t have to buy all this stuff for me.”
“Well, I’m the reason you don’t have any of them so I wanted to make it up to you, for causing you real trouble.”
“You know I don’t blame you.”
“I know. I wanted to do it anyway.”
He smiled into her eyes and said, “Thank you.”
She kissed him again and they unloaded everything. She hummed to herself as she watched him put the toiletries next to hers in the bathroom. She cut off the clothing price tags before throwing the clothes into the washer so he had something to wear tomorrow. She hated to admit that she enjoyed playing house with him, because this might not work out, but that only strengthened her resolve to try.
Back in the kitchen, he eyed the grocery bags. “So what’s for dinner? I remember you learned to cook.”
“Fondue.”
His eyes lit up. “Really?”
“I remembered it’s a Kendall family tradition to celebrate something for you this way. I wanted to show you….”
“What?” he asked, pulling her close.
She looked away shyly and then seemed to find a resolve to be bold. “To show you that I want to be with you, to be part of something with you.” She bit her lip to avoid saying she loved him or that she wanted to be part of his family. The long, gentle kiss he planted on her lips made it clear he understood. She melted into him.
They soon unloaded steak, pork, uncooked shrimp, oil, mushrooms, baby red potatoes, broccoli, and BBQ sauce, shrimp dip, and Tristan’s favorite, Peppercorn Ranch, onto the counter. Another bag held a brand new fondue set.
“Wow,” he said, “you really didn’t have to buy that. You could’ve borrowed one from Quinn or Connor.”
Not sure she should admit it, she said, “I was hoping we’d have reason to celebrate more than once.”
He murmured, “If you’re going to keep being so romantic, you’ll get your wish.”
“Good. A little encouragement is all I need.”
“You’ll get more than you bargained for. I’m starting to feel like I need to step up my game. What are we celebrating exactly?”
“Great sex. A few days of bliss. Your new thong. Whatever you like.”
He laughed and they set about cleaning the pot, slicing food, and opening a chilled bottle of red table wine Chloe had brought from the winery.
The great thing about fondue is that it’s a slow meal that allows those participating to talk, sip wine, and do other things with their mouths than eat while waiting for the food to cook. They ate by candlelight, the open windows letting in a gentle breeze that reminded both of their outdoor encounter last night. And while that made her horny, it also made her wonder once again about those three words he’d said. If this wasn’t love, nothing was. It surpassed their time together five years earlier, and showing him this was a priority. The question was whether he saw it, too.
Tristan’s phone rang while they cleaned up afterward, the screen showing Riley was calling. He stepped away from Victoria and answered.
“Hey, bro.”
“Hey, man,” Riley said. “Listen, I’m watching CMS right now and saw them pull a black Ducati Panigale up to the back. They parked it next to a tarp that’s clearly covering another bike for whatever reason. Then they pulled the tarp over the Ducati too, so it might be a stolen bike. There’s no rain forecast for tonight.”
“Yeah, no reason to cover it.”
“It looks like everyone’s clearing out for the night and leaving stuff where it is, but I’ll be back here first thing in the morning to see what they do next. I’m hoping they lift that tarp a little better so I can see the other bike.”
“Can you get to the tarp?”
“Not without scaling the fence back there.”
“Okay. Hey, we’ll be at CMS tomorrow to leave for this mountain tour. Maybe I can find a way to peek under there or something.”
“Don’t fuck up anything trying.”
Tristan laughed, noting that Victoria had headed toward the bedroom. “Why do you assume that?”
“Nothing. Just hard to get near the bike without looking suspicious.”
“True, but if they suspect anything, maybe they’ll move whatever’s under there after I leave, and you’ll see it.”
“Just be careful.”
“All right. Thanks, bro.”
“Later.”
Tristan hung up and went after Victoria, finding her lying on the bed on one elbow, wearing nothing more than one of his new button-up shirts, fresh from the dryer, most of the buttons undone, her eyes dark and mischievous. This was how he wanted to spend the rest of his life. No doubt about it.
He came to the bed, dimming the overhead light, and sat beside her. She gazed at him quizzically as if wondering what he was up to, for he didn’t disrobe or join her lying down. With one finger, her stroked her long brown hair, then lifted her chin up to him. He made no move to kiss her. Her lips parted in anticipation, her breath quickening. Their eyes locked. He smiled slowly and broadly, the corners of his eyes crinkling.
As he leaned toward her, he softly said, “I love you. I never stopped. I never will. I still love you, Victoria.”
A slow smile lit up her face and she pressed her forehead against his chest, grinning from ear to ear, tears filling her eyes but not spilling. After a moment she looked up at him and remarked, “You know you said that last night.”
“I did?”
“Twice. You don’t remember? I got the impression you didn’t.”
“When?”
“Outside. You know, while we were…”
“Oh.” He chuckled. “I guess I was otherwise preoccupied.”
“Indeed.” Then she kissed him, not realizing that she’d neglected to reciprocate those three little words.
But Tristan noticed, thinking about it as he rose and went to the bathroom. She’d never been one to hold back on saying it before. Had she meant to? Did she have reservations? Did she not believe he meant it? Maybe she felt unsure if she felt the same way. He felt pretty sure she did love him, but maybe all of this sex was what she really loved and her feelings for him had faded away. Or she did love him but feared that he’d leave a wall up between them, one she wasn’t willing to bring down.
And then there was the issue of the baby they hadn’t discussed. Things had been going so well that it hadn’t seemed like a good time. Maybe she was waiting for that to resolve. Or the situation with his racing career. Whatever the cause, it seemed clear that she wasn’t ready to commit. She needed more time. And maybe he shouldn’t have admitted to loving her. Was it too soon? It could make her feel pressured to say it back, and that was no good. They’d always refused to say it just because the other one had, as that made such an important thing into nothing. Maybe that’s all that this was, a relic from the past. He sighed and tried to let it go. But on his way back to the bed, he saw something that could help convince her of his commitment.
“I fixed your chair earlier,” Tristan remarked, gesturing at a wooden seat like those at the kitchen table. Between the four legs was a crossbar meant to stabilize it, but that had been hanging loose, so he’d glued it together and wound a rope around the legs to make sure the glue set.
She glanced over. “Cool.”
Noticing she didn’t sound appreciative, he playfully remarked, “I can be useful around the house, you know, not just in bed.”
“I could’ve fixed it myself,” she said dismissively.
“Did you like it broken?” he asked, feeling put off. She shrugged irritably. He gave her a long look and didn’t join her on the bed. “Why do I feel like I should apologize?”
She looked startled and then dropped her gaze. She sighed and put on a half-hearted smile. “Thanks for fixing it.”
“What’s going on?”
“Nothing.”
“Come on. It bugs you. What does it mean to you that I fixed the chair?”
She pursed her lips and asked, “What does it mean to
you
that you fixed the chair?”
His eyes darkened. “You think I have an ulterior motive or something? I just wanted to fix it for you.”
“Okay, now you’re making me feel bad.”
He spread his arms in frustration and she sat up on the bed, crossing her legs and nibbling her own lip.
“Okay, let me level with you,” she began. “I’m glad that you fixed the chair and can be helpful around the house, and all of that. I’m glad that your clothes are in my closet, and that you’re in my life. Maybe too glad, because I don’t know what’s going to happen. Are you quitting racing? Am I going on tour with you? I’m afraid to like any of this too much because I don’t know where our relationship is headed.”
He breathed a sigh of relief that she wanted to be with him. “Okay.”
“I don’t think I can handle getting too involved with you and then separating again. I’m sort of caught between wanting to make sure it works, doing things to make sure it works, and not having control over whether it will. So when you do something great like fixing the chair, well, I’m upset that I’m happy about it.” She chuckled at herself and he smiled.
“So when I do good, it’s sort of bad.”
She gave him a sorrowful look. “I’m sorry. Am I being really neurotic or something?”
“No. Well, a little.”
“Come here.” She reached out for him and made a squeezing motion with both hands, so Tristan joined her on the bed, stripping off his clothes on the way. She pulled off the shirt so they’d be without boundaries between them. They got into spoon position and nuzzled quietly for a while, talking of finding a way to make things work and assuring the other that’s what they wanted.
Tristan turned her face up and brushed his lips across Victoria’s. “Can you forgive me for leaving? I feel like you haven’t and I want you to. For both of us. It’s something to get past.”
She didn’t answer at first, settling for stroking his cheek. Then she let out a long breath. “Yes, I forgive you. I think you’re right. I’ve been sort of holding a grudge a bit, and not realizing it.”
“I want you back. I’ll do whatever you want.”
“Even if that means quitting racing?”
He thought for a moment, searching his heart. “Yes, if that’s what it takes.”
Victoria’s heart pounded and she leaned against him, discovering that his cock stood at attention. He pressed into her. Teasing him, she said, “You know, you can’t solve every problem with your penis.”
He grinned. “Well, you never know until you try.”
She laughed, her guard dropping further. “Are you sure the call of the road and all of that won’t get to you?”
“The only call I hear is the one to be by your side every day and night.”
She blushed despite the cheesy sentiment, mostly because she could tell he meant it. “What will you do if not race?”
He shrugged. “My family could always use help, I’m sure, and I want to stay in Comus with them, too. No more running around looking elsewhere for something to make me happy. Everything I want is right here. With you.”
That almost convinced her, but not quite. “You won’t miss races? Winning? The money? The adrenaline rush? Attention? The fans?”
“No. Winning your heart again and forever is the only achievement that matters, the only attention I need. And no money could possibly compete with the treasure of you. You’re the only victory lane I need.”
She kissed him tenderly. “I love you, Tristan.”
He grinned from ear to ear, a rush of adrenaline making his heart pound so that he felt faint, his lips eagerly seeking hers. “I love you, too,” he murmured.
Then Tristan Kendall slid into Victoria Lane and was fairly certain he heard cheering.
Chapter 13 – No More Secrets
As the morning sun crept over him in the cool spring air, Tristan stood outside CMS beside the bright yellow Goldwing, discreetly checking out the parking lot. Victoria stood chatting with the half-dozen other riders on the mountain tour. All but one was a guy, most of them in their forties. Only a young guy rode a sport bike, everyone else having a touring one smaller than the behemoth Tristan and Victoria would be on. She wore her hair in a ponytail, the tight leathers showing off her exquisite body, and the heeled boots accentuating her ‘vixen’ appearance.
Larry stood beside Victoria, trying to discreetly flirt with her while casting nervous glances at Tristan, who felt more amused than threatened and had some fun throwing slightly unfriendly glances at the salesman. Larry was coming on the trip, too, but no other employees from CMS except the owner, Rick, who’d lead them.
Tristan took a swig from a water bottle and then put it in the cup holder, a nice feature that only the big touring motorcycles had. Rick’s blue Goldwing was parked next to his rented bike. Tristan had only seen him for a moment this morning before he’d disappeared into the service bay. Tristan was dying for an excuse to follow. The idea that his stolen bike might be within shouting distance nagged at him, but he’d have to let it go. He knew Riley was watching even now.
As Tristan finished preparations, Rick strode out from the service bay in a black full-body jumpsuit. He carried two cloth bags in his hands, each one containing something bulky, irregularly shaped, and apparently a bit heavy from the way they pulled the bags taut. Rick made eye contact as he approached.
“Need help?” Tristan asked, indicating the bags.
“Yeah, if you can lift the trunk there.”
Tristan lifted the blue Goldwing’s rear trunk and Rick placed the bags inside, closing it.
“That doesn’t look like the wine bottle I brought,” Tristan remarked conversationally.
Rick smiled. “Nothing so fun. I should grab a bottle from the bar inside. You know your family is one of my suppliers?”
“Yeah, someone told me. I guess I can consider you part of the Kendall family.”
“Sure!” Rick gave him a pat, which came across as a slick salesman trying to seem like he was a buyer’s buddy. That was just as well, for if Tristan could get Rick’s guard down, the man might tell him something useful.
“You might want to secure what you put in there so it doesn’t move around,” Tristan observed.
Rick lifted the trunk lid and remarked, “Yeah, wouldn’t be good for parts to move and shift the center of balance.”